


Something to Talk About

by Jael



Series: Back to You [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, New Relationship, Romance, Team as Family, not quite smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/pseuds/Jael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a direct sequel to "Just Breathe." I'd call that required reading first, because it picks up right where that story lets off. The members of the Waverider team are a bunch of horrible gossips, you just know they are...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Talk About

**Author's Note:**

> Decided I needed a bridge between "Just Breathe" and an upcoming story. So this happened. Got a little steamier than I planned. Those crazy kids ...
> 
> So many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta read and cleaning up my overtired ramblings. :)

 

"I thought you were on Snart detail."

"I was." Ray looks up and gives Kendra a tiny smile, idly stirring the bowl full of cereal he's eating. "But Sara's with him, so I'm off the hook for now."

"Sara."

"Uh huh. She said she'd do it; I figure Snart likes her better than me anyway." He takes a bite of something sugary and vintage from the 1980s.

"I see." The former hawk goddess resumes her slow stroll into the kitchen. "But the question is, is she with Snart, or is she _with_ Snart?"

"I don't know; she ..." The spoon pauses halfway to his mouth. "Wait, what?"

A chuckle from behind her makes Kendra start, then move over to let the newcomer into the kitchen. Mick Rory points a finger at her as he passes her on his way to the refrigerator. "I knew I liked you. You're ... observant."

She smiles a little. "I try."

Ray is still processing. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"

The other two roll their eyes at each other. Mick ignores him to extend a beer toward Kendra, who, to her surprise, takes it.

"I just hope he's not fuckin' it up," he tells her. "He does that. Hope at least they're talkin'. They've got a lot to talk about."

"I'd say." She takes a drink, notes his expression. "Sara ... told me a little bit."

"Humph." He nods to her. "Good."

"Aww." Things finally catch up with Ray. "That's ... sorta sweet, really. In a really scary sort of way. You know, 'cause they're both scary."

Even Mick has nothing to say to that. He takes another swig of beer. So did Kendra. Ray takes another bite of cereal.

And Stein walks in the door.

"What?" Their not-so-absent-minded professor raises his chin at the quality of the silence that greets him. "What are we talking about?"

Mick grunts. "Snart and Sara."

"Oh." Stein smiles. "Finally gotten to that, have they? Excellent."

Ray chokes. "You..."

"Open your eyes, Raymond."

"Don't look at me, I was surprised too." Jax sidles past the other half of Firestorm and grabs the box of cereal from Ray. "I mean, yeah, they were always playing cards …" He stops. "Wait a minute, they _were_ playing cards, weren't they?"

"I sure as hell hope they're not _now_." Mick looks vaguely disgruntled at the notion of his friend ... friends ... wasting _more_ time.

Kendra laughs despite herself. "I don't know. Snart was in pretty rough shape."

"Talking, bird girl. I hope they're _talking_." Mick points his beer at her. "Get yer mind outta the gutter."

"But … they weren't a _thing_ before, were they?" Ray is still pondering. "Sure, I guess there were a lot of … looks … and they hung out a lot, but …"

"Snart's not exactly Mr. Feelings, Boy Scout." Mick contemplates his beer. "But people change. If dyin' and coming back doesn't get him to 'fess up a little more ... well, that man ain't stupid." He takes a sip. "And neither is Blondie. If she cares...and I think she does... she won't let him get away with that 'Captain Cold' shit anymore."

"She cares." Kendra's voice is quiet. Mick eyes her, then nods.

Jax pauses in eating cereal straight out of the box. "Yeah. I guess I can see that. I mean, we were all upset about Snart, but … man, the look on her face..."

"She wouldn't leave the medbay when he was in there." Ray points out. "When we were trying to get him stabilized and his vital signs were all over the place, Rip tried to get her to leave and she just ignored him."

"That touch-and-go stuff, Haircut.." Mick sounds pensive. "… that's over, right? He's OK?"

"He's fine as far as vital signs go." The other man shrugs. "Gideon's keeping an eye on him and she hasn't so much as tattled."

"Good. He's pissy about being weak, but that seems to be getting better."

Stein shakes his head as he rummages around in the utensil drawer. "Remarkable thing. We've been over it with Gideon again and again. It's unmistakably him; the medical data, even the brainwave scans, match perfectly, adjusted for some trauma. And that _is_ fading, gradually. But no matter how many ways I turn the theory over in my head, there's no scientific way to explain this. At least, not one we know yet. It must have to do with the Oculus. There's so much we don't know about it."

He finds the butter knife he was looking for, and looks up to regard his teammates. "The only thing we come back to is that sometimes ... the universe gives second chances."

* * *

Kendra is supposed to be next on what Snart derisively calls the "babysitter" list. Sara supposes she could have just asked Gideon to let the other woman know that she's planning to stay, but that doesn't seem like quite the right thing to do.

So when the time approaches, she silently rises from the desk chair where she's been reading, and slips out the door just in time to see the other woman walking down the hallway toward her.

Kendra gives her a once-over that's just a little too full of speculation about why she's out here instead of in there. But Sara's not one to blush. She folds her arms and gives her friend a level expression.

"He's asleep. I'll stick around a while longer."

"Mmhmm." Kendra matches her look for look before smiling and shaking her head. "Have a good talk?"

"Yes, actually. And talk is all it is so far, so don't give me that look."

"Really?" Kendra's eyebrows could not possibly be raised any further.

"Well. We might have _talked_ about … potential …"

"Potential is good. But just potential …" She registers a flicker in Sara's eyes. "OK, you at least kissed him. Good?"

Sara allows the smile to grow a little. "Good. _Very_ good. Making-him-rest-up-for-later good. OK?"

"OK." Kendra smiles back. "Mick said he'd hope you talked, more than anything else."

"Oh, it's _Mick_ now, is it?"

"Bite your tongue."

"He's a good man under the bluster, you know."

"Kind of like Snart under all the snark? No, I'll let the romantic rumor mill revolve around you two now. I think I'm swearing off relationships for the rest of this lifetime. If Carter's back around next time … we'll see." Her eyes are sad. "If it had really been love with Ray, I don't think Carter's … temporary … return could have made me so sure I needed to end it. But I did and it was the right decision and that's how it is."

"I'm not talking about a relationship, I'm talking about …"

"Sara!"

But they both laugh.

Sara sobers a little, though. "The rumor mill? Should I … should we … be concerned about that?"

"Ah. Well … yeah, the only one who wasn't really speculating was Ray, simply because it never occurred to him." The women share a fond, exasperated look. "Worry about it? No. Consensus is it's about damned time. Especially with everything that happened..."

"Hmm. Thanks."

Kendra pats her arm. "Go back to your crook. Enjoy your second chance."

* * *

Thoughtfully, she lets herself back in, crosses the room back to the bed where he's still sprawled, apparently asleep. Boosting herself up, she reclines next to him, stretching before rolling onto her side to face him.

The blue eyes are open; he's considering her with a raised eyebrow.

She smiles. "Have a nice nap?"

"Hmm. Guess so. Seems like a bit of a waste of two hours, though."

There's a note in his voice that hadn't quite been there earlier … or if it had been there, it'd been buried by stress, pain, and fatigue. She finds her own smile changing, just a little, in response.

Oh, she has missed this. The banter, the touch of flirtation. And if there's an added undercurrent given that they've now agreed to act on that flirtation, well ...

"Oh?" There's a touch of a purr in her own voice as she stretches again, very slowly. "I think you needed the rest."

His lips twitch and there's _that_ light in the pale eyes. How had she ever mistaken it for anything else?

But …

"Seriously. How are you feeling?"

He's about to say something, that familiar smirk in place, then visibly reconsiders. (She has a pretty good idea what it was, and fights to keep her own smirk away.) "OK. Actually …" He stretches a little himself, experimentally. "… actually, not hurting. Huh. Not 100 percent, but … rested." The smirk sharpens.

"Mmm. Gideon?"

"Mr. Snart's vitals are strong and steady," the AI's voice informs her. "His heart rate is slightly elevated ..." Snart rolls his eyes. "... but well within normal parameters."

"And is he cleared for ... physical activity?" He lifts an eyebrow at her again, then props himself up on an elbow. She smiles at him.

The pause is so long that both of them can envision Gideon restraining a question on the nature of the physical activity.

Or maybe she doesn't need to.

"To a point," the AI finally says. "I can alert ... you ... if his vitals approach a questionable zone."

Definitely doesn't need to.

"Please do that, Gideon."

"Yes, Ms. Lance."

She looks him in the eye.

Ah.

_You'd better_ _be_ _one_ _hell of a_ _thief ..._

Apparently last time didn't count. That's OK. He's up to the challenge. He thinks.

He doesn't have far to go to put his lips on hers.

It stays simple, like the last time, for all of a fraction of a second.

And then the electricity they've both sensed for a long time, but only recently acknowledged, arcs between them.

She gasps against his lips as they both feel it, and he's not ashamed to say he takes advantage of that. Things heat up very quickly, but she regains control almost as quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him back to the bed … in a way that means she's more or less draped over him.

With most people, this would be setting off all his proximity alarms.

Instead ... this feels pretty damned good. Better than good.

She's not most people. He's known that for a while, but it's nice to have proof.

"Gideon's only going to let us get away with this as long as you don't overdo it." Her voice is a little rough, and that small detail makes his breath (and other portions of anatomy) quicken even more.

"'This?'" His voice is a bit ragged, too. He can't say he's happy about Gideon-as-watchdog, but it would be far more mortifying to pass out in the middle of … "this."

"Hmm." She studies him from where she's sprawled, right arm bent in front of her, the fingers of her right hand tracing gentle circles on the shoulder she'd pressed back to the blankets, left hand toying with the hem of his shirt. "You should probably know, we're being talked about."

The non sequitur makes him blink. "What?"

"It started when I told Ray I'd stay. The peanut gallery … well, some of them … drew conclusions. Responses, apparently, range from 'Well, duh' to 'Wait, what?'"

He processes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Thought it might bother you. Further cracking of the 'Cold' façade and all that."

"Does it bother _you_?"

"No. Should it?"

In respond, he manages a sort-up half-sit-up to kiss her, one elbow propping himself up, the other going up to tangle in her hair. He's rather proud of himself for managing it, really, but though he'd like to think he's surprised her, she's too much … _her_ … to not have felt his muscles tensing in preparation. Still, she laughs, then deepens the kiss, moving so that she has a knee on either side of his hips and her hands are curved around his rib cage.

And that's just a little _distracting_.

There is no possible way she can miss just how _distracting_ it is.

For what seems like the longest time, they just lose themselves in the kiss, but then she sighs and rocks her hips against his in a way that shows, clearly, she definitely did _not_ miss his … distraction.

If he's feeling generous, he'd call the sound he makes a groan. Realistically, he thinks it's more of a yelp.

She seems to find that highly amusing, from the laughter in her eyes and the smile on her lips when she pulls back for just a moment, but then she tugs the hem of his shirt up just a little and her expression goes serious again as she starts easing it up toward his head.

"All right?"

He reaches for bravado, thinks he almost manages it. "If yours goes too."

That startles another laugh out of her.

He likes the laughter. Likes the idea she's having fun. Well, he is, too. And if that's sort of a new concept in this sort of situation for him, he's OK with that.

He manages to sit up a bit more vertically - and if the motion does spark a flicker of returned pain along his shoulders, it's more than worth it for the almost ridiculously intimate position they're in as she eases the shirt up over his ribs, arms, shoulders, then over his head... and flings it across the room. (Startling another laugh out of him.)

She doesn't even blink at the scars. But then, he thinks, she's seen them before. And as she strips off her own shirt, he sees her own, and they mutually, silently, agree that none of this is something they'll bother noticing ... except, perhaps, as the reason for an extra caress here and there.

This all leaves her straddling him while wearing a black sports bra and yoga pants, while he has nothing on but a pair of sleep pants. If he thought he was distracted before ...

"We should slow down," she murmurs into his ear ... after being an utter hypocrite, he thinks, and trailing a kiss up his jaw to the hinge.

"Why?" He knows why. He's just going to ignore it as long as possible. Probably not a wise idea, but no one's ever accused really accused him of wisdom.

"Well, when Gideon inevitably stops us, do you really want to be ... right in the middle of something?" She's trailing her fingers slowly along his shoulders, then down along his spine, then back up.

He retaliates by running his fingertips just under the seam of her bra, earning a drawn-out breath.

"Might be worth it."

"Nuhuh. When you do get that clean bill of health, I'm looking forward to something a bit more ... intensive ... than a rush job now." Her smile is downright wicked. Her eyes are shining. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life.

The smile fades, though, as she takes in the profoundly un-Snart-like look on his face. "Leonard? Are you OK?"

She's seen vulnerability from him a time or two before. In the hold when they were freezing; a glimpse later when she tried to get him to talk to post-Chronos Mick. During their card games a few times when the conversation had turned personal and he'd chosen not to dodge. And then, that day at the Vanishing Point, when he'd looked her in the eye and pitched "me and you."

That last, and those stolen few moments at the wellspring, were probably the closest to the raw expression she's seeing now, this peek into the damaged heart of a man she's come to ... care for.

He doesn't answer, just continues to look at her with that expression. So she doesn't ask again. She just puts a hand on each side of his face and kisses him.

After a heartbeat's hesitation, he kisses her back, moving his hands to her hips and just holding on.

And for all the fooling around they've done over the last little while, both of them know that this, now, is when things could start getting very, very serious...

Which, of course, is when Gideon emits an odd, low chime and says almost apologetically, and quite diplomatically, "Mr. Snart, might I suggest some pain medication and a bit of rest? Your vital signs are showing some stress ..."

Still, Sara is the one to break the kiss, very slowly. He accedes with reluctance, leaning his forehead against hers, and they just sit like that for a moment.

Finally, she disengages just as slowly, rising, hopping down from the bed and crossing the room to get a cup of water and one of the pain-killers he prefers not to take. As she holds them out to him, he sighs, but accepts, and she takes the cup back before asking Gideon to dim the lights even more.

But then she boosts herself back up beside him, gently pushing him back to the bed with a hand before curling up next to him, further in his space than she's ever slept before, close enough that he can put his arms around her if he wants to.

He hesitates. She doesn't press.

"You seemed to be enjoying that," she whispers into the stillness. "I did, too."

She can feel his breath against her hair.

"Yeah. Liked that you seemed to be having ... fun," he admits. "Same here."

She tilts her head back to smile at him. "It's supposed to be, you know. Fun. At least, that's how I see it."

"Hmm. I guess ... that's sort of ... foreign to my experience." Now he raises his arms and wraps them gently around her. "Always been ... more like scratching an itch ..."

He semi-expects scorn at the confession. But it's not what he gets.

"Oh, poor Len." She laughs against his collarbone. "You're in for quite an education, love."

The word hangs in the air, but neither of them remark on it. Yet.

His arms tighten, just a little.

"Looking forward to it," he whispers. "Love."

* * *

**Eight hours later**

As the team gradually trickles onto the bridge for a meeting, each one of them (unobtrusively or not) glances around to see who else is there ... or rather, isn't.

"Has anyone seen the lovebirds yet?" Jax asks Mick in a stage whisper. The older man bites back a smile as he shakes his head.

"Damn." Jax looks impressed.

"Ah, new love," Stein sighs, looking nostalgic. "I remember when Clarissa and I were first together; we couldn't keep our hands off each other..."

"No one wants to hear about it, Gray. No. One."

Kendra and Ray can't help exchanging looks, although they glance away just as quickly. And if at least one other teammate notices, he doesn't say a word.

Rip himself is looking ... not precisely annoyed, but put-upon. It's not a new expression, but it does have some new depth.

"Gideon," he says finally, when everyone else has assembled, "would you please ask Ms. Lance and Mr. Snart ... again ... if they would join us. Or just Ms. Lance if Mr. Snart isn't up for it."

Mick and Jax both snicker. Rip, if possible, looks more put-upon.

"Calm down, captain," comes the drawl from the hallway, as its speaker saunters out onto the bridge. "We're here."

Sara, at his side, rolls her eyes a little, but smiles.

_"You know what they're going to think we've spent all this time doing, don't you?" she asked him as they dressed after a good "night's" sleep in each other's arms, taking their time with the occasional kiss or gentle touch._

_"Hmm._ _Let_ _'_ _em_ _." His grin was slow and sly. "My reputation can use it."_

_She threw a pillow at him. Their departure was delayed that much longer._

"Dude! You two finally rolled out of bed?"

The jibing is pretty much what they'd expect, although it's clear Snart is openly surprised … maybe even a little touched … by the responses to his sheer presence-moving slowly, perhaps, but alive and whole and snarky.

Mick punches him … gently … on the shoulder. Ray does, too, grinning when the gesture gets him a frown. Kendra actually gives him a brief hug that makes him blink. Stein clasps his hand; Jax, grinning, raises a hand for a fist bump that is returned with some bemusement.

Even Rip just shakes his head, the shadow of a smile on his face.

The team is back together. As it should be.

"So," says their back-from-the-dead crook, leaning against the table like he'd never left. "What's next?"


End file.
